Bewitching the Devil
by Nicole Starling
Summary: Something powerful walks the land of the living once more, and now she's looking for revenge, but caught in the middle of a raging war, will she play the role of the ally or the enemy. And to whose team? - Slowburn. Eventual Klaus/OC. Slight Elijah/OC. Begins in TVD and moves to TO.
1. Preface

The sun was burning hot and high in the sky; the scolding rays peeking between the leaves of the tallest trees of the forest, which extended as far as the human eye could reach. The silence was all that could be heard for miles, besides the faintest whisper of the wind and the seldom sound of a lone animal. Besides that, nothing else could be heard. Not even the footsteps of a young girl who tiptoed between the trunks, her feet making no sound as she avoided crunchy leaves and branches, carefully assessing every step before hopping between rocks and prominent roots, silent as a mouse.

Loose strands of hair sticking to the sweat of her forehead, pink mouth half open as she breathed in and out, steady, big brown eyes analyzing her surroundings like every other predator did. The rough fabrics of her skirt tied around her waist so her bare feet wouldn't trip on them. Her otherwise pale skin was burnt and pink in high places as a result of her long exposure to the harsh sunlight, and there were scratches and dirt patching her legs and arms, but although she looked like she'd been through hell and back, she carried determination in her eyes and perfect focus as she pulled her arrow back against the string with unshakable strength and anchored it to the corner of her mouth.

The girl breathed in and out so silently that the movement could only be noticed if one looked at her rising chest, eyes locked in the innocent venison that sniffed the ground at the distance. The wind blew against her hot forehead, and she thanked the Gods that carried the breeze in her favor. It took her a single heartbeat to lock her aim before she let go of the arrow. Its flight cut through the air like a sharp knife for a split second before it cut its way through the tender flesh of the venison's heart. The creature didn't even give a cry of help before it fell to its death on the floor.

There was a crunch of leaves behind her and she let out the breath she'd been holding, blinking the dryness of her eyes away as she lowered her sore arm and shook it gently to get the blood rushing back into her statuesque fingers. "Not a second too early, brother." She whispered without turning around, the sweet voice of a young girl replaced with hoarseness of a throat dried out from thirst. "You could have ruined dinner." She went to strap the bow to her back and walk towards her kill with confidence, every step was taken with the unnerving familiarity of a daily routine.

The man behind her was a little taller than her, and a good two or three years older, and shared most of her features, a defined jawline, light and ruffled brown hair —though hers was much longer than his, so instead of being curled graciously against her head, like his own did, falling past her elbows in unkept waves caused by the humidity in the air. Their eyes were different from each other's, as well; while his own were a dim shade of green, that of a leaf succumbing to the stark cold winter weather and slowly turning from green to brown, hers were dark brown, nearly pitch black like the depths of an unexplored cavern. His own robes, unlike hers, were pristine white and scarlet red, making him stand out in the middle of the wilderness like he didn't belong there. Her dirtied brown clothes tied with worn out leather straps and patched with broken pieces of finer fabrics. "It's getting late, Verónika. You should come back."

The look on her eyes was harsh as she bent over and retrieved the arrow from the venison's still warm body, but he missed it. The girl took a length of rope from around her waist and began tying the animal's limbs together. "You know I can't come back without the food." She bit out, knotting the animal's legs a bit more strongly than necessary, as something was heard cracking. "You know it very well."

"Verónika…" He trailed off, attempting to catch her attention. The girl waited for him to continue for a moment before she turned around and saw his extended hand, offering her a brown canteen made of the same leather that made her belt. "Drink up."

She nodded almost inadvertently and whispered: "Thank you." Silently, she gulped to her heart's content under her brother's scrutiny, who worked on finishing her task as she rested.

In the distance, the sky tinted with blues turned pink and violet as the sun began to set, slowly but surely. The man stared at his sister's figure with awe. He always believed she was the strongest amongst the four of them, despite the fact that she was the youngest. Close to her seventeenth birthday already, she didn't smile nearly as often as the other girls around her age did. In fact, even if he attempted to remember the last time he'd seen her smile, he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. The closest thing to Verónika's smile he'd seen was about two years back, in their sister Eirene's face as she kissed him farewell and waved from a distance.

Wiping off the trail of water that ran down her chin, Verónika became conscious of her brother's prologued staring. "Something wrong?", she didn't miss the familiar look on his face, either, not when she knew it all too well. Eyeing the bag that strung across his chest and down to the side of his body, she noticed something peeking from its pocket. A piece of pricy parchment with a certain lettering that brought bitter memories back to the surface. "Is that from her?" Verónika asked, throwing the now-empty canteen back into his lap and standing up, lazily beginning to drag the dead weight of the animal behind her.

He tried to hide the letter from her eyes, but she'd already seen it. "You must understand…" he tried to reason.

She walked faster. "Understand what? That my own blood refuses to acknowledge my existence?" She laughed sardonically. "I got the message, crystal clear. Do me a favor and send that whore my best wishes. Or don't, for what I care."

Verónika kept rambling and cursing her sister and the Gods that gave her the burden to share blood with, as she so kindly put it, such a wicked harpy, before her brother stopped her, grabbing her wrist. "Verónika… She's coming home."

* * *

It was one of the most beautiful nights in a long time. The sky was clear as the shallow part of the river, every group of stars was shining almost as brightly as the torches that surrounded the majestic structure in the middle of their land. There was an astonishing bonfire in the middle of everything, flames dancing to the symphony that the musicians played with such talent, replacing the usual dead silence of the night along with heartfelt laughter and cheerful conversations, most of which revolved around a certain girl who came back home.

The girl celebrated was, in fact, sitting in a log by the fire, warming her fingers as she laughed at one of her brother's stories. She'd missed him dearly, and when she saw his face for the first time in many moons, she knew that writing letters back and forth could never compare with holding him close. She, too, missed seeing the way his green eyes lit up as he laughed, and the way he said her name with such veneration. Eirene's warmed hand found the beloved bump on her stomach and smiled to herself. She wanted her child to know that loving smile, and the power that her coven provided her. Despite what some thought of her, she was no monster. How could a monster create something as pure and beautiful as a human life?

Monsters took life away from others, she knew that better than most.

Eirene's eyes darkened as she examined the small crowd that gathered outside. Beside her, her brother tensed as he saw the change in her usually innocent-looking features. "Are you alright?"

Her face suddenly snapped back and her eyes gleamed. "In perfect health, brother. I was just curious as to where our beloved sister might be." She continued to rub her protuberant baby bump and examine the crowd, even eyeing past the tree-line. "I'd love to share the good news myself if she doesn't already know."

Her brother gulped nervously. As much as he missed Eirene, the confrontation between his sisters was something he'd been avoiding. After two years of being apart and a childhood of animosity, he'd seen Verónika grow cold and resentful, despite his best efforts to give her all the love she deserved. And the spark of malice he suddenly saw on Eirene's eye confirmed that she wasn't seeking to make amends either. "Verónika excused herself from the festivities, but I believe our brother Valerius is around with Julia and the kids. Little Fabius is almost as tall as his mother by now, I'm sure they want to see you."

Eirene's hand found her brother's shoulder tenderly. He nervously smiled at his sister. "I intend my child to be born in a loving family and strong community," she looked around and sighed. "and Verónika will have to accept that. I will find her and we will discuss our differences." She stood up with slight difficulty and kissed her brother's cheek. "Tonight, one way or another, we will be a family again. Tell Augusts not to look for me, I need to do this on my own."

* * *

In a tent, far enough from the bonfire and the loud, chattering crowd, Verónika stood before a table full of concoctions and bloodied wooden vases. She bit her chapped lip in concentration as she ran her fingers through the recipe. It was harder than usual for her to concentrate, given the festivities happening not far from her place of isolation. Sure enough, her brother tried to convince her to attend, to make things right with her sister, or at least welcome her back into their home and then leave. But Verónika knew better. That place wasn't a home. It never was, at least not for someone like her.

For people like her siblings, it was the perfect place to be, yet she was an outsider, a mistake. Valerius knew it, Eirene knew it. There was only one brother who seemed hellbent on keeping her by his side. He was the only thing anchoring her to the coven that hated her cursed blood.

Silently, Verónika watched the green paste bubble and turn into a thin liquid before she looked into the small mirror before her, following the line of open flesh that extended from her forehead down to her chin. Her eyes watered as her flesh bled and burned, but managed to suppress a scream as the wound closed itself, leaving nothing unblemished skin behind. She half smiled, proud of herself, and proceeded to raise the hem of her dress to uncover another equally gory injury to her leg. Her lips shook as she took another bit of the liquid on her fingers and repeated the process.

There was no way she'd let her brother know about it. He was praised and loved amongst their kind, and she was a mere liability. Some called her a pet of his, a burden. She tried not to listen. After all, every time she fought back, she ended up on the losing team. It was a stupid idea to piss off witches as powerful as the ones from their coven. The Travelers, after all, were as powerful as they were ruthless, as omnipotent as they were fairly new to the world. The first generation of witches and warlocks who reunited to increase their power.

Stupid girl, she thought as the next wound closed itself. She should run off and end her misery. Find another city, make a living of her own, far enough so they wouldn't find her.

Still, there was a piece of her that whispered dark things inside her head. She knew there'll be a time when she'll get her revenge on everyone who wronged her, treated her like an animal, bossed her around and beat her for the laughs of it.

As she washed the remains of the liquid away from her skin, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "You've recurred to dark magic. I should've expected as much from a common disgrace such as yourself." Her back straightened as she turned around and saw the face of her sister.

For a moment, she was taken back. She'd forgotten how much they looked like, but after two years apart, Eirene's face had grown slightly different. Her cheekbones were higher and she had a small dimple in her chin, which was considerably sharper than hers. Her hair was darker too, whereas Verónika's remained the same light shade of brown as her brother's. She'd grown different. And Verónika had seen paintings of their mother. She looked a lot like her.

Eirene, too, took a second to examine her sister's face. She'd expected to meet a reflection of her, but the girl before her seemed even smaller than she remembered. The same rounded cheeks and big, stupid brown eyes. She was the female reflection of their brothers, and she hated her.

The last thing Verónika's eyes encountered was a big, rounded stomach, which Eirene caressed absentmindedly. "You're with child." She mumbled rather stupidly. She was clearly taken back by the sight of her sister, with whom she'd shared her mother's womb, pregnant with a kid of her own.

Eirene took pride in her sister's dumbstruck state. "Indeed. You see, some of us are not absolute pariahs, we can find true love and raise happy families." She teased with a wicked smile on her face. Verónika's eyes hardened. "It's people like you who're meant to die alone and miserable, sister, so don't mind me for stepping back from the inevitable misery that seems to radiate from you."

The younger sister pushed her dress down and stood up. "Enlighten me then, sister," she spat out the term with venom. "What do you mean when you say 'someone like me'?" She walked closer to her sibling and stopped only inches away from her face, their noses so close they almost touched. "Far as I remember, we're the same, aren't we?"

"Don't you ever compare us!" Eirene yelled. With a flick of her wrist, Verónika flew across the tent, landing on the hard floor. "If you were like me, you'd be able to defend yourself!" Something inside Verónika's leg snapped, and she cried out. Eirene's eyes were full of tears, and her otherwise pale skin was reddened. "You're a disgrace, a powerless burden to the family name, your birth was my dear mother's undoing! And what for? A human baby who can't protect the family legacy?"

Verónika held her leg with care, the hatred in her eyes was unlike anything Eirene had ever seen before, but she was blinded by her own rage, so she pushed again. The littlest sister cried out as her head felt like it was about to explode. "I've been away too long, sister. I intend to raise my child in its rightful coven." She laughed. "And you're not a part of it. Never one of us. You can't protect them." She turned her back on her as she cried silently. Eirene kneeled by her sister's side and held her face. "I can feel it already. This child will be a Regent amongst of people, more so than the clingy whore that follows our brother like a lost puppy, more so than me!" She said proudly. "And I can't have you around to taint their existence. No, you need to be gone."

Eirene stared at one of Verónika's arrows, tinted with the dried blood of one of her recent kills. "I'm sure our brother will miss you, but he'll eventually understand why you left without saying goodbye." Verónika opened her watery eyes and stared at her sister with fear. "We could never resolve our differences, what a shame." Eirene held a fistful of Verónika's hair roughly and exposed her neck. The tip of the arrow ticking the pulse point on Verónika's neck.

Tears streaming down her face, Verónika realized death wasn't her biggest fear, but instead letting Eirene kill her without having a chance to fight back. Far away, the crowd cheered loudly. Eirene pressed the arrow closer and a single drop of blood began to make its way down the girl's neck. The elder sister brought her lips to her ear and whispered: "Happy birthday to us, I guess."

Verónika's hand shot up to cover her sister's in a final act of defiance, and something strange happened.

As Verónika's grip around Eirene hardened, it felt as if something snapped inside of her. The younger sibling felt something she'd never felt before, a connection to the ground and the elements around her, a wave of whispering voices in the back of her head, renewed strengths. Her injured leg healed itself almost instantly, the pain inside her head nothing but a distant memory. And before her eyes, Eirene showed fear for the first time in their lives. It drove Verónika past the point of no return.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed it! Please R&R and do let me know what you think so far. I'll introduce myself shortly.


	2. Down The Rabbit Hole

_I spoke to God today and she said that she's ashamed._

 _What have I become?_

 _What have I done?_

 _I spoke to the devil today and he swears he's not to blame_

 _And I understood 'cause I feel the same._

 _Arms wide open_

 _I stand alone._

 _I'm no hero and I'm not made of stone._

 _Right or wrong_

 _I can hardly tell._

 _I'm on the wrong side of heaven and_

 _the righteous side of hell._

Wrong Side of Heaven — Five Finger Death Punch.

* * *

It had been too easy for Katherine Pierce to follow them. But she knew it would be, with all of them being too worried about precious little Elena handling her vampirism —she could thank the spoiled Rebekah for that, although she would've loved to do the honors—, they wouldn't even suspect she'll be stepping on their ankles as they followed Jeremy's weird tattoo all the way to Nova Scotia. After all, five hundred years on the run had turned Katherine into a master of stealth. Sure, she loved to put on a show every now and then, cause a little mayhem, but she could be quiet as a mouse when she needed to. And this time, the stakes were way too high.

After she learned that they planned a trip to Canada, Katherine asked around, and it didn't take long for her to find the name Atticus Shane and his exhibition of antiques, but also the shady death of his wife. His witch wife to be exact. And he was a wannabe member of Silas' cult. This last fact was the one that caught Katherine's attention when she read the text one of her sources sent her. Of course Katherine knew about Silas, the first Immortal, buried alongside the Cure for Immortality, but, in all honesty, Katherine didn't need a way out of being a vampire. She loved it. She thrived on the power that ran through her veins, on the rush of the hunt, the idea of being beautiful forever. Besides, those were legends.

Or at least, she believed them to be, until she found out about the truth behind the Hunter's tattoo, and the little map to Silas' tomb. In most cases, she wouldn't have bothered. Let Elena Gilbert bathe on the Cure for all she cared. If her whiny doppelgänger wanted to be weak and eventually wrinkle like a raisin, let her. But she had her suspicions. Call it a sixth sense, one she developed out of her never-ending paranoia.

Maybe Niklaus 'Immortal hybrid' Mikaelson would want Elena to be human again and provide him of an army of werewolf-vampire mutts, or he'll shove it down Katherine's throat out of spite and use her as his hybrid-dispenser-machine instead. Either way, Katherine needed to secure the Cure. And an odd feeling on the back of her neck told her that, no matter how much of that Cure was buried by Silas' side, it wouldn't be enough to share with all the vampires who begged Elena and her Salvatore bodyguards for a sip. And good samaritan Elena would be the kind of dumb to go to the news and broadcast her findings for, you know, the kindness of her heart, or whatever.

Katherine slapped her neck, crushing the millionth annoying mosquito that sucked her neck. She secured the backpack that hung from her shoulder and pulled her phone out of the tight pocket of her pants. She checked her reflection for a moment —not bothering to check for signal, since she knew that god-forbidden middle-of-nowhere piece of dirt had nothing near five bars. She cringed at her reflection and stopped for a moment to press her hair flat against her scalp. No matter how long she spent in front of the mirror, her perfect curls wouldn't surrender to the hot iron. She hated how bland she looked, but she needed to look exactly like Elena Gilbert, in case someone found her. Specially Rebekah, whom she'd seen earlier by with Stefan and Elena by the beach. The blonde Original vampire wouldn't hesitate to rat her out to Niklaus. And Katherine had risked too much just by following them that far, but if it meant finding the one thing that would finally grant her freedom, she'd risk it any day of the week.

But oh lord, how she loathed seeing her reflection and having the mirror image of Elena Gilbert staring back at her.

Out of the blue, the doppelgänger in question showed up. Stepping into dried leaves and branches loud as an injured animal, Elena followed a much more silent Stefan into the entrance of a cavern. Katherine recalled seeing Rebekah sped inside not a few minutes earlier, but she also knew with battles not to pick, so the brunette resisted the urge to snap Elena's neck right there and decided to find a less crowded entrance. Showtime was approaching.

"Ew," Katherine complained as she leaned into a wall for support and accidentally touched something moist. She cleaned her hand with her pants and continued to make her way through the dark tunnels. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible since the darkness and the rocks reminded her of nastier times of her life.

It'll be over soon, she promised herself. She'll get the freedom she deserved, the peace of mind she never had.

Her thoughts came to a stop and so did her steps. There was something behind her. Trying to put her best innocent face, she turned around facing the intruder. She expected Bonnie, or Jeremy, even one of the Salvatore brothers —preferably Stefan. She could've expected Niklaus. Everyone except the woman who stood before her.

"Mom?" Katherine's voice was flat as her back straightened. Her mother hadn't aged a single day. From her brown curls neatly braided on the top of her head to her chubby cheeks who she once loved to kiss. Her throat was dry all of sudden, and she couldn't find the right words.

Her mother simply smiled. "Katerina. My beloved daughter." She extended her arms towards her.

But Katherine didn't run towards her. "My mother is dead. Who are you?" She crossed her arms.

In truth, this was an illusion done by someone quite powerful, but she'd been around way too many witches who'd played too similar tricks with her head to be shaken. The illusion had the nerve to look confused. "What are you talking about, baby? It's me."

Katherine walked towards her and past it. "I've seen this whole show. Rabbit out of the hat, cutting the girl in half… Your magic is nothing new to me. And if you truly knew how to use it, you'll know my family's not going to cut it."

"Fair enough." The voice behind her morphed from her mother's heavy accent to a flatter, sweeter sort of pitch she hadn't heard in over thirty years. "I'm aware now, what you seek is your freedom." Only then Katherine turned around to see a different woman. Shiny brown hair, big doe eyes, and pink cheeks. It wasn't a face she usually remembered, so she was slightly taken back by the choice. "You seem surprised to see me."

"Imogen, isn't it?" Katherine pointed out. "Right, now you're just reaching. Out of all the people I've killed, I gotta say you could've chosen someone more significant."

Imogen flashed her a smile. Katherine remembered how she once thought it was so warm and calming, but this one seemed colder, mocking. "Seemed fitting. For one reason or another. You killed this woman to ensure you remained free. I just happened to like her face." She then sat on one of the big rocks and stared at Katherine. "So, how do you plan on claiming your long wanted freedom? Surely, waltzing into the one place where most of your enemies are gathered doesn't seem like the greatest strategy…" She trailed. "But, you're Katherine Pierce. The survivor. You and I have that in common."

"Who are you, really?" Katherine asked curiously to the illusion. She didn't remember bleeding at all, so how did someone get inside her head?

The illusion of Imogen shrugged. "The mosquito bite." She explained. "Just a bit of your blood from your neck, to your palm, to the wall… In case you wondered." Her eyes gleamed. "You could say I'm someone very interested in breaking Silas free. And seeing the witch on this cavern isn't doing much of an effort in doing her job, and you're too smart to manipulate, I'll ask you again, what do you want here?"

"Right." Katherine watched the tiniest spot of dried blood in her palm and rubbed it clean. "So, am I speaking with the devil's advocate or the devil himself?"Imogen said nothing. "If it's your concern, I'm just here to secure myself a piece of the Cure before my idiotic ex-lovers and a slightly uglier copy of me give it away to every lame vampire walking the earth."

"Oh, but you do know there's only one enough for one?" Katherine's heart skipped a beat. Imogen smiled. "Don't be so surprised. You had your suspicions, Katerina."

"I'm not exactly an optimist."

"No, you're not. You're a survivor. So you listen now," the illusion stood up and grabbed Katherine's shoulder. She felt nothing but a cold shiver where the woman touched her. "the only way for you to grab the Cure is by waking Silas. Right now, the witch and the hunter nearing his body. They won't wake him. They're too scared."

Katherine nodded. She could already imagine Bonnie and Jeremy looking for easier ways to grab the Cure. But now that she knew there was only a dose of the Cure… Katherine had known fear for too long. She swallowed. She was so close to gaining her ticket to freedom. Everyone would want that Cure. Especially Klaus. It was an easy way to kill him, turn him human and rip his heart out. Or use it on Elena so he could make more hybrids. Either way, it was a solid gold bargain chip she needed to have.

The illusion of Imogen leaned to the ground and took a big enough rock and threw it against a wall. Katherine turned around, surprised, and suddenly very aware of another presence in the distance. "Stefan?"

She clenched her jaw at the voice of her doppelgänger. Imogen smiled wickedly. Katherine examined her features for a brief instant, remembering the girl she'd befriended many decades ago. The one who'd helped her hide in Chicago after someone ratted Klaus of her whereabouts. Imogen Phillips, a kind, broken-hearted girl who just wanted to help out a friend. Katherine remembered their nights together on the run, the road trips, the morning drinking sessions. She also remembered when she looked her in the eyes and pulled her heart out from her chest, and then burned her house to the ground and walked away without looking back.

She was brought back by another loud noise. Imogen had thrown another rock behind her. She put a single finger over her lips and mouthed. "You know what needs to be done."

Katherine nodded and disappeared in a second, following Elena's voice as she said: "Hello?" With the stealth of a cat, Katherine appeared behind Elena. Who turned around slowly and eyed her with fear. "No…" It was the only thing she could say before she grunted when her double pushed her to the ground.

Bonnie Bennet guided Jeremy through the darkness, following her instincts. In reality, she was exhausted from her use of magic, and really thirsty, but Jeremy kept walking with strength and resolution in every step until they reached a clear. In the middle, there was a tomb made of stone. A human-shaped statue laid over it in a sleep-like position, held in place by roots. Its face was covered with an iron mask, and the dark, blackish color of its skin reminded Bonnie of the pictures she'd seen when she studied the explosion of the Mount Vesuvio. Its hands laid over his stomach, holding a small box firmly in place.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Jeremy beat her to it. "Is this it? This is the cure?" He exploded incredulously. "How is that supposed to cure every vampire in the world?"

Bonnie sighed. "I don't think it is, Jer." She said in a small voice. She supposed it made sense. If Qetsiyah only wanted Silas to be mortal again so he could die and join her in the afterlife, why would she make more than one dose? It's not like there were that many immortals walking around in her times.

Jeremy looked at her before he took a step towards a petrified Silas and took the cure from his lap. Or at least he tried. She watched as the muscles on his back tensed for a long moment before he grunted. "It's stuck, help me move it." He breathed out.

She hesitantly walked to his side and put her hands near his, using all of her leftover strength to pull Silas' hand away from the box. "It's fossilized in place." She said in between teeth. "Ugh, it's like trying to bend stone." She let go of his hand when the realization came to her. "Oh my god." Bonnie took a few steps back.

Jeremy noticed her change of demeanor. "What?" But she didn't answer right away. Instead, she walked around the cave and stared at the emptiness. He began to worry and turned his face towards hers. "What, Bonnie?"

"He's been frozen," she paused. "like a vampire statue for two thousand years. There's only one way we're gonna get the statue to unfreeze." She deadpanned.

"How's that?" The hunter asked, but at that moment he already knew the answer. He just didn't want Bonnie to say it.

"We have to feed him our blood." He felt his skin crawling at the seriousness of Bonnie's tone. Like waking a millennia-old witch who even Kol Mikaeleson feared was the only reasonable answer. He faced her when she continued to ramble. "If we wanna get the cure out of his hands we…" she trailed off, shrugging like it was obvious. "We have to wake him up."

After a long moment of silence, Jeremy picked up a big stone from the floor and began beating the statue's hand with it. "Come on!" He yelled angrily. He was furious at the whole situation.

Bonnie hated to see him so altered. "There's gotta be a way to do this without raising him." she tried to reason. He paid no mind, continuously beating the stone with all of his force. Bonnie tried again… "We'll find a way…" But she was interrupted when something sharp cut her insides, jamming itself inside her from the small of her back. She gasped. The knife pulled out as fast as it went in and she was pushed to the side, falling like a sack into the hard ground.

"Don't listen to the witch, boy," Vaughn says. "We have to raise Silas, and we have to do it now."

Jeremy was in shock when he watched Bonnie fall to the ground in slow motion, but he finally reacted. "Bonnie!" He screamed, throwing himself to the ground beside her, not caring about the man in front of him. He watched with a knot in his stomach as she breathed slowly. He pressed her own hands against her wound to keep the blood from pouring out.

Vaughn pulled a knife and this alarmed Jeremy, who stood up again. "What are you doing?" he barked.

"What you should've done already… I'm gonna raise Silas." He said in his Irish-accented tone, putting his bloodied hand over the mouth opening of Silas' mask, letting the scarlet blood drip inside. "Then I'm gonna kill him." He said as a matter-of-factly.

Jeremy pulled him back and threw him across the room, but Vaughn was a skilled fighter, so he recovered fast. Jeremy kicked him, and the other hunter blocked it. They exchanged punches for a moment before Vaughn managed to hold him in a headlock. "You're confused, Mr. Gilbert, we're on the same team!" But the little Gilbert hit him back and managed to break free from his hold. In a second, it was Jeremy who had Vaughn in a headlock.

"You stabbed my friend!" He hissed. Vaughn hit him in the ribs and then grabbed his torso with immense strength, pushing him in front of him and throwing his dead weight like it was nothing.

Vaughn wiped the blood from his face. "I don't mess around with witches."

Jeremy stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact. "You can't use the cure on Silas…"

"It's what it's meant for!" Vaughn yelled frantically, eyes almost popping out of his skull.

Jeremy built momentum on his legs and jumped, landing a solid punch on Vaughn's face, then grabbed his neck and hit his face with his knee. Vaughn brought his head up, breaking Jeremy's nose.

The younger hunter felt himself going dizzy, so his next punches were nothing more than sloppy. He barely noticed Vaughn's hold on his arm until he heard it breaking, and he felt every bit of pain explode, everywhere, when he ended with his back on the hard ground once again. He cried out in pain. "What else would you use it for?" Vaughn asked no one in particular before grabbing his knife back again. It didn't take him long to figure out. "Your friends." He walked towards a pained Jeremy, who was still whimpering. "Your sister." He breathed out, raising his knife. "Sorry but, it wasn't meant for that." He put his boot on Jeremy's chest and got closer to his level. "Nothing personal."

He was ready to bury the knife on the young hunter's neck when he was grabbed from behind. Jeremy watched as his sister grabbed Vaughn's jaw and was ready to dig her vampire fangs into the flesh of his neck, but he managed to groan a reminder: "The hunter's curse!"

Vaughn was breathing heavily when Elena rolled her eyes, blood cleaning from them and fangs retracting as she closed her mouth. Instead of drinking from his jugular, she settled for pushing his head against the grave, hopefully snapping something important. She watched happily as the hunter was rendered unconscious —but very much alive, before she extended a hand to a bloodied Jeremy, helping him up. "You ok?" She asked him.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he ran to Bonnie's side, consoling her. Elena's eyes remained locked in the box permanently placed in Silas' grasp. "Elena's here now, ok? Everything's gonna be alright." Jeremy told Bonnie.

The wounded witch whimpered: "We did it."

Jeremy smiled softly, incredibly thankful to have her alive. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, we gotta get you up."

He stood up to Elena. "You have to help Bonnie, the hunter stabbed her. You have to feed her." He begged her.

Elena didn't listen, instead, she grabbed him and put him up until he towered over her. "Okay, I just need to make sure you're okay first."

"I'm fine! What are you doing?"

She turned and pointed at Silas' grave. "The Cure! Jeremy, after everything we've been through," she stuttered. "I-It's right there."

Jeremy pressed his lips together, hiding his disappointment towards his sister's selfish behavior. "It'll be there after we help Bonnie." He deadpanned, decided to help the witch first. As he kneeled next to her, he missed the angry look on his sister's face.

"God, I forgot what a brat you are." She muttered flatly.

At these words, Jeremy turned around, confusion plastered on his face. "What?"

"I'm done playing nice." The Elena look-alike pulled Jeremy harshly to his feet and sliced his wrist, draining the blood from his hand into Silas' mouth. The statue began to move slightly as it fed from the hunter's arm.

Jeremy finally realized the truth. "Katherine."

"It's been too long, little Gilbert." She mocked, forcing him to remain in place as the Immortal gained forces. She saw Silas' fingers snap out of place. "Sorry, family reunion is gonna have to be cut short." She said a second before she lost her patience and pulled Jeremy's head back, using her teeth to cut his carotid open and pushing it to Silas' mouth to speed up the process. She knew she didn't have much time before Elena and the rest of the crew to find them. She pushed him hard until a hand shot up to his head and held him. Katherine gasped when Silas' cinder-covered hand kept Jeremy in place to feed from his neck. Jeremy groaned in pain, but it didn't ring on Katherine's ears. All she cared about was the Cure, now free from Silas' hold.

She grabbed it inconspicuously and, after a final look at her surroundings, ran at full speed out of that place. Not caring that she left Jeremy Gilbert to bleed to death in the hands of an Immortal.

Katherine saw daylight at the end of the tunnel. So close, she was almost there. "Leaving so soon?"

She turned to see Imogen once more. She gulped. "Silas." she held the Cure closer to her chest. "I-I don't… You're awake now and… I just…" She stuttered nervously. She eyed her vision from head to toe in confusion. Why would Silas try to mess with her head now that he was awake? He probably wanted the Cure back, but how fast could he recover from being frozen two thousand years?

This vision of Imogen, however, was nothing like Katherine remembered her. Where Imogen was an impeccable woman with fancy bejeweled short dresses and her hair cut in 20's fashion, the girl before her seemed to be a younger version of her. A good decade younger, probably close to Elena's age. Her hair was no longer in a clean, straight cut, but it fell to her waist in dirtied brown waves, barely braided away from her face. Her thin body was also wrapped in a disheveled cream-colored tunic. "I can't let you leave with that."

It was impossible that this was Silas. Or maybe he was, disguising himself as Imogen. But how could it be? If not even Katherine had met Imogen when she was as young as the girl before her. "Who are you?"

The girl opened her mouth, but all of the sudden her eyes were lost as if she was suddenly having an out of body experience. Katherine took the change and ran away, but she only made it so far as the mouth of the tunnel before Imogen was before her. The young girl smiled. "You're lucky, we don't seem to need it just yet."

"We?" Katherine asked. Instead of an answer, Imogen grabbed her arm tightly.

Katherine felt something she'd never felt before, not in her five hundred or so years of miserable life. It was like her life was being drained from her. As if her energy left her body altogether. She grew weak, hungry, tired. Her knees gave out in a second, but she held to the cure with every last bit of strength she had. And she didn't cry out, no matter how scared she was. She looked at the girl in Imogen's face, who opened her eyes and they flashed a dangerous red before it faded away.

"All you need to know is that you need to keep that safe." She pointed at the cure before she let go of her arm. Katherine was relieved to feel herself growing stronger. "Stay far away from now…" She then smiled slyly. The girl raised her arm and touched Katherine's chest. She felt a burning pain in place of her palm and pulled away. The fake Imogen raised her hands in surrender, but the evil smile on her otherwise innocent face remained. "At least until we need you again."

Katherine didn't stay to ask questions. As soon as the girl moved out of the way and waved her goodbye, Katherine sped away in the distance. Leaving not even a footprint to mark her presence on the island.

At the place, the girl that looked like Imogen wasn't smiling anymore. She tried to lean onto the wall, but she felt herself out of air. She cursed herself for her weakness, but the tracking spell was something she needed to do to ensure she'll find the elusive Katerina Petrova. She grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground, trying to steady her head. Time caught up to her in a matter of seconds, now that the other Immortal was awake. Two thousand years of solicitude felt heavy on her shoulders. The hunger, the cold, they drained her from strengths. She gagged, feeling like she was going to throw up, or pass out, or both at the same time. As she crawled out of the tunnel, her eyes flinched at the aggressive sunlight. She coughed when she tried to laugh at the feeling of warmth against her skin.

She'd forgotten how the sun felt.

She inhaled, filling her lungs with the fresh air of the woods.

She'd missed the air of the wilderness.

For one second, it was as if time hadn't passed at all. But then a figure cast a shadow over her face. She felt the coldness of the darkness once more, and she squinted her brown eyes to see the newcomer. It was an older man with curly raven hair and a beard. The girl tried and failed, to get back on her feet. "Who are you?"

She dug her nails into the spaces between rock and managed to get back on her feet for a second. When her knees were about to give in, the man held her by the elbows. "I'm offended you don't recognize me. Then again, you look like you could use a good meal."

The girl looked into his face, searching for a clue of his identity. There was something familiar on him. His pose, the way he smiled at her, that gleam in his otherwise unfamiliar eyes… " _Silvanus_?"

He smiled openly. "Well, they call me Silas around here but, how could deny anything to my littlest sister?" He caressed her face and pulled a stray hair behind her ear.

The girl pressed her lips together. "Why do you look like this? Why can't I feel the real you?" She demanded, pushing his arms away from her for a moment, giving two steps forward before falling to the ground again, only to be picked up by her brother.

He held her to his chest and tentatively hushed her as she felt herself drifting away, giving in to the tiredness that suddenly consumed her body. "Easy now, Veronica. I'll explain everything to you, but first, you need to rest." She heard his voice far away when she closed her eyes and met darkness. His last words echoing inside her mind in a way she could almost hear the voice of the brother she once knew. "We have work to do."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So, you'll notice I'm not one to publish too much. Actually, just today I sat down and wrote (and kind of edited and corrected) this entire thing, with a little help from Grammarly, but there might be an error or two. Hopefully not in continuity, because I drafted the basics of this chapter for a whole week. It's just that it takes me way too long to actually sit down and get it done.

I'll introduce myself now. I'm Nicole, 20, and I'm currently living in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Spanish is my first language, but I love to do my writing in English -hence most of my spelling or grammar mistakes, so forgive me for that. Although I'm living in Buenos Aires, I'm Venezuelan, and I've also lived in Orlando, Florida, and Hilton Head Island, South Carolina (both in US). I've also been pretty much everywhere there is, so if you wanna make conversation about it, let's do it. I hooked with TO not long ago, but I've followed TVD casually for a while now, and I haven't seen many people exploring Silas' character enough, and I plan on exploiting the crap out of his storyline and move my OC Veronica onto the TO universe soon after. But we'll cover the basics from this episode all the way to the pilot of TO and Graduation, then it's mostly 100% TO. Just wanted to clear that out since I didn't put this story in the crossover section, and I don't plan to.

As far as rating, I'm keeping this M to be sure, because I don't hold back on gruesome details, explicit scenes, or language, so keep that in mind. I'll probably forget to put warnings before any chapter with explicit/triggering material. Please let me know in advance if you really want me to include those warnings.

Also, let me know what you think so far. I'll put a song that inspires my writing before every chapter, with some lyrics that really speak about the story, my OC, or the relationships. Feel free to listen to those to get in the mood. And do let me know what you think of my writing skills and the storyline so far.

There ARE some plotholes right now that I will cover as the story unfolds (like, who the hell is Imogen as why Katherine confused her with Veronica). Let me know your predictions. And consider that the Klaus/OC pairing will not be immediate. Actually, it will be one of the slowest burns you'll ever read. Hope you enjoy pain and angst, 'cause I have a ton of those.

I'll try to keep the updates on the weekly basis, but I tend to suffer from writer's block. Also work is crap.

I'll cut it short now. Let me know what you think please, rate, review, follow, whatever you want. This will be a long ride. Hope you're in it with me.

 _Love, Nicole._


	3. Stand By Me

_Undo these chains, my friend,_

 _I'll show you the rage I've hidden._

 _Perish the Sacrament,_

 _swallow, but nothing's forgiven._

 _You and I can't decide_

 _which of us was taken for granted._

 _Make amends,_

 _some of us are destined to be outlived._

The Devil and I — Slipknot

* * *

 _Verónika was on her knees by her sister's cold body. She admired the morbid shade of purple that began to paint her lips, and her eyes wide open as she stared at the empty, the trail of tears finally drying out against her cracked skin._

 _She was surprised to notice her own heart beating steadily inside her chest, since she half-expected she would be a little more affected by her sister's death. No, it wasn't just death. She was murdered. Verónika murdered her and her unborn nephew. And she was calm. There was a warm buzz under her skin unlike anything she'd felt before. It was empowering, intoxicating. For a moment, she wished Eirene would come back to life only to do it again. She loved the feeling. She wanted more._

 _A breeze entered the tent and blew a strand of hair over Eirene's face, and Verónika, in a gesture of kindness she'd never done to her sister in life, softly pulled it to the back of her ear. "Thank you."_

 _"Verónika…" She stared at her sister's face for a long moment before realizing the voice wasn't hers. Looking up, she noticed the tent open, her brother Silvanus standing there, jaw clenched as he stared at Eirene's body with shock. "What have you done?"_

 _As if popping her bubble of ecstasy, Verónika's hand began to shake as she struggled to breathe. If felt just like that time she was drowning in the river, dragged by the merciless current, thrown against rocks, slapped in the face by the ice cold waters. Verónika looked down at her sister's body, the prominent bump on her stomach, her empty brown eyes, and her half open mouth._

 _She fell on her arse, and slipped a few meters back from the body. But Verónika didn't feel inherently bad because of her sister's death, or her nephew. She was in shock because of the bubbling sensation beneath her skin. "Silvanus," she stared at her hands in fear. "What's happening to me?"_

 _"To you?" He whispered. His face fell as he kneeled by Eirene's body and touched her neck. "What did you do to our sister?"_

 _"Nothing!" She bursted out, ignoring Silvanus' glare. It wasn't like Verónika to yell at him, let alone show anger. She stood up fast and walked to the other side of the tent, rolling the sleeves of her dress up to calm the heat she felt creeping up her arms, making her insides feel as if she was being boiled alive in a cauldron. "I didn't do anything, I-I just touched her!" She pointed an accusing finger at the dead body. "She tried to kill me!"_

 _"So you murdered her?" Silvanus's green eyes crystalized as he touched Eirene's bump. "She was with child!"_

 _Verónika's face was turning red as she let go tears of rage. "Don't you think I noticed? What else was I supposed to do?" She scratched her arms angrily. "Gods, it burns!"_

 _Silvanus stood on his feet and walked big steps towards his crazed sister, grabbing her by the arms and trying to shake her back to reason. "What is wrong with you?" He yelled at her face._

 _Verónika's eyebrows wrinkled as his brother towered over her and painfully squeezed her shoulders, her fingers buzzed and she felt extreme anger, fear, sadness, all at once, enhanced by the thousands. "Don't touch me!" She cried out, pushing his chest with her hands._

 _Now, Verónika wasn't known for her physical strength. Sure, she could run like a wild cat, and climb trees like a squirrel, but she wasn't the strongest girl of her age, so she gasped when Silvanus flew several feet in the air, landing somewhere outside the tent. She heard something loud landing, something crack, and then silence once again._

 _One beat, two beats. Silvanus was nowhere to be heard or seen. "Brother?" She muttered as she stood alone in the middle of her messed up tent. Her eyes burned as she blinked away the tears, trying to clear up her blurred vision. "Silvanus?" She tried again in a broken voice._

 _Silently, she stepped outside —careful not to trip on her dead sister's feet. And found her brother laying by a tree, his neck bent in an awkward position. And there was that feeling again. The water, cold and sharp as knifes, hitting her face, the air leaving her lungs until she felt lightheaded. Unadulterated fear, running through her veins. And everything was heightened._

 _She fell to her knees, blinding pain quickly shooting up her legs. She managed to drag herself towards his body. "No, no… Not you."_

 _His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't alive. There was a beat in everything around her, the ground, the trees, even far in the distance she could feel the buzz of life emanating from the unknowing partygoers. Her own beating heart was loud in her ears, but his body was silent. She knew it, because it was just like the dead venison she hunted so often. Just like her sister's body._

 _She weeped silently. It didn't felt as if she could mutter much noise, anyway. Her throat was closed, and her chest burned. Verónika was drowning. Even the air that entered her chest felt like too much to handle. She cradled Silvanus' head and put it over her lap as she cried against his neck, grasping his clothes for dear life. "Not you," she repeated in whispers so soft they could've very well been just the sound of the wind. "Come back, come back, come back…"_

 _She snuffled, grabbing his face between both of her shaking hands. "You're not leaving me." She demanded. "You can't, I won't let you." She rested her forehead against his as she cried._

 _Funnily enough, she began to feel dizzy. She kept drowning. She was trapped in the current, no way to be saved from her imminent faith. She remembered Silvanus pulling her away from the waters. She remembered him pushing his air back into her lungs. She remembers coughing out water, she remembered him smiling. Verónika remembered that winter sunset when he'd pulled her back from the death. She wanted to do the same for him, but she felt herself wearing out. Burning hot in her hands. Pain inside her head, like her insides were about to explode like greek-fire._

 _She smiled. She figured death was coming to get her, and she would welcome it with open arms if it meant seeing her brother again. She was seeing black spots all around her, the fire in her hands dying out. Something moved underneath her arms._

 _Something grabbed her hands. "Verónika." She though she'd heard her brother's voice. She tried to tell him she was coming, that she was sorry, but her throat was sore. She coughed out. "Verónika!"_

 _She opened and closed her eyes. Between blinks of darkness and light, she thought she saw Silvanus' worried face once more. "I'm sorry." She managed to say. "I didn't mean to kill you." She muttered before things went dark around her. She drowned._

* * *

"Veronica." She was dizzy still. Veronica felt herself floating in nothingness, carried like a leaf in the wind. Weightless, to the mercy of the currents. _Water_. She was drowning. Silvanus. He was _dead_. "Veronica, you can wake now."

She felt herself being shuffled in the air and opened her eyes slowly. She was blinded by the sunlight and blinked. Someone laughed. She recognized that laugh, she'll recognize it anywhere. Her brother's face became clear and she looked up. He was carrying her like the catch of the day in his arms. "No, you're dead!" She whimpered, looking around her in confusion.

She struggled in his arms until he dropped her on the ground. "Alright, you need to get it together now." He said, but his voice was different. Veronica saw the man with curly hair one more time looking down at her with an unimpressed look. A few seconds passed and he crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Back to the land of the sane, now?"

"What happened?" She asked, sitting on the ground that she found to be soft and grainy.

"You passed out, little sister." He leaned close to her and extended his arm. She reluctantly allowed him to help her up, but quickly found that her knees were too weakened to hold her own weight. Her brother held her close to his chest until she regained balance. "But that's understandable, after putting a locator spell on the doppelgänger before letting her run off with my cure." He said through his teeth, clearly not amusing.

She pushed herself away from him. "Right, because letting whoever finds you get the Cure as well. You don't hand the enemy the bow as well as the arrows, one can't do much without the other. Trust me, it's safe where it is."

Her brother —in the face of another man— raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"

"The woman who looks like… The doppelgänger, that's what you called her, she has no intentions of using it on herself. She wants it for something else. Not sure what for, but she won't use it. And she seems to be good at hiding." She explained, rubbing her hands on her arms to warm herself up.

Silvanus huffed. "You better hope your spell works. I'll need that Cure eventually…" He sighed. "But for now, you need to feed. You look like death."

"How nice." She scoffed. "But I don't see food anywhere near, so…"

He walked a few steps in front of her and guided her near the beach. "Then you need to look closer."

Puzzled by his words, Veronica walked right behind him. Her bare feet skipping through the ground like she was used to. When they neared the water, she saw a man laying on the floor. A man that looked exactly like her brother. Well, not really. Veronica deduced he was the man Silvanus' decided to look like. As if sensing her curiosity, her brother grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him closer to his face. "Our friend right here is Atticus. He's one of the many responsible for our current state of freedom. Say thank you, it's the polite thing to do." He smiled. Atticus groaned, barely keeping himself unconscious

"And you're wasting magic to look like him because?" She asked, not impressed by his choice of skin.

Silvanus clicked his tongue. "Convenience. Not to worry, I won't do so much longer, it's just that keeping a low profile is a big part of my plan. Our plan." He emphasized. "But I'm afraid this is as far as he goes." He dug into Atticus' pocket and pulled out a intricate hunting knife. Atticus whimpered. "Shh, I'm sure it'll be a huge honor for any member of the Cult of Silas to die like…"

Veronica put a hand up. "Cult of Silas? You're joking."

"That's what they call me now. I don't know, it kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He half smiled.

"Don't let it get to your head." Veronica rolled her eyes mockingly, but there was a question buzzing in her head. She kneeled next to the man and grabbed him by the cheeks. He was dizzied, borderline dead. "Do you know who I am?" She waited for a minute, her gaze frozen in his frightened brown eyes, but there was no recognition on his face. He shook his head to confirm it, too. "Do they know about a girl named Verónika at the infamous Cult of Silas." Again, she waited, and the answer was the same.

Veronica clenched her jaw. "She kept to her word." Silvanus —Silas, said. "Two thousand years, if you know who can hold a grudge that long…"

"She erased my existence." Veronica muttered bitterly. "Two thousand years, you have a Cult, and I never existed."

When Veronica's eyes glowed red, Silas pulled her away from Atticus. "Now, she might've done us a favor."

"Did she, now?"

Silas nodded, trying to ease her rage. "They know about Silas, the Immortal, but they have no idea what's coming to them. They don't know the threat you posed to Qetsiyah. But they will…" He cupped his sister's face. "And they will fear you." Veronica's eyes turned back to their usual brown and her brother sighed. She blinked a couple times and breathed difficultly. "You're famished." He walked towards Atticus and brought the knife to his neck. "Look, I know this might sound awful to you, but the only thing that will calm your hunger now is blood. You need to be strong for me, okay? I will…"

Before he could finish the sentence and cut Atticus' carotid for his sister to drink from, she threw herself at the man's neck and sank her teeth deep into his flesh, drinking the warm blood that pooled inside her mouth like it was sweet wine during dinner. Atticus gasped, trying to hold onto his life until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he went limp in her arms.

Beside her, Silas smiled wickedly. "That's my sister."

She drank as he ordered. For the first time in her life, she felt like the ultimate predator. She remembered the time in her life where she was used to being the scapegoat, the pariah, and how hunting down easy preys gave a sense of purpose. Now, drinking a man's blood straight from his veins and feeling his very essence fill her veins, give her energy she didn't know she possessed, she felt at the top of the world.

She felt invincible.

But as much as she loved the taste of his blood, Veronica wanted something else.

She waited until his heartbeat was almost inexistent, and she whispered in his ear. "Tell them I'm coming. You've earned the honor."

And she dropped his head back down.

Silas watched in silence as his sister let Atticus limp body on the ground and stood up. Her chin was stained in fresh blood and she looked more alive. Her skin was back to its usual tint, and her eyes were more alert. He mentally took note to be more careful with his magic, since he knew how relentless she could be. He needed to watch his words if he wanted her to help him. "Feeling better?" He asked.

Veronica stared down at the strange clothes on his borrowed image and down at her own bloodied dress. "I'm feeling a little overdressed."

He chuckled, gesturing with his head for her to follow him. "We'll find you appropriate clothes. Right now, I have to pay a visit to a witch friend of mine."

* * *

Bonnie Bennet opened her eyes to the the darkened forest before her, fuzzy at first, and then clearer than ever. But something felt wrong. So wrong. Last thing she remembered was Jeremy, and Elena pushing him… No, definitely not Elena. It was Katherine Pierce who showed up out of the blue. She'd been hurt badly, so her memories were vague, but she remembered the stone cold hand of Silas grabbing Jeremy's neck and…

Bonnie's hand shot up to the ground by her head, softly pushing herself up as her memories came back all at once. Her heat began to race quickly, and she felt her pulse beat harder each second. She brought herself to her knees and waited for the pain to come. And she kept waiting.

But it never came. Her free hand went to her back, looking for the bloody wound, but she only met soft wrappings carefully placed on top of it. "Don't touch it." She looked up in surprise at Atticus Shane, who was walking his way towards her with a small bucket and a peaceful demeanor. "I used some of the island's herbs and berries to help treat the wound, but not being an actual witch I can't guarantee much."

He kneeled by her side and left the bucket on the ground. Bonnie's green eyes immediately found a bloodied gash in his khaki fisherman's pants, in the leg which was holding his weight, yet he didn't seem to be in any pain at all when she clearly remembered him crying and whining not hours earlier.

Suspicious, she clenched her jaw and looked up to his seemingly innocent face. "How are you healed?"

For a second he seemed reluctant to tell her, but he confessed: "It was Silas." Bonnie's face twisted in shock. "You did it, Bonnie, he's risen." He went to touch her arm, but she pushed him away in indignation.

"Get away from me!"

"I know you're angry with me, but now you'll see everything I did, those lives lost," Bonnie took a sharp breath." they weren't in vain," He shook his head. "Silas is gonna bring them back."

"What you wanna do isn't natural, Shane." She scolded. "You can't bring back the dead." Her face was the perfect reflection of anger, and rightfully so, since she'd been a first-row spectator to the horrible things that happened every time someone decided to mess with the natural order.

But Shane was still calm. He gave her some space and looked at her with pity. "I think you'll change your mind now."

Bonnie gulped at his confidence, but it was his choice of words what truly worried her. "What'd you mean now?"

"When Silas awoke, he had to feed to gain his strength, he'd been dissecting for almost two thousand years. He needed blood." Bonnie sat straighter, fearing whatever words were about to come out of Shane's mouth. "Jeremy was there."

She shook her head, blood running cold. "What are you saying?"

"He…" Shane trailed ff.

Bonnie was growing more anxious. "What are you saying to me?!" She snapped.

"He drained him of his blood, Bonnie." Shane said in a soft voice that sounded muffled and too far away for her, but she still understood them. Her eyes began to water as she felt like she was being struck by lightning. "Jeremy's dead."

* * *

She didn't know how long she'd been crying for. Time seemed to be a foreign concept for her. She didn't feel the wind blowing her face, or the cold creeping through her fingers. Bonnie simply felt the pain, a syringe full of grief that'd been staked through her chest and emptied inside her heart, which was now pumping freezing river water that exited through her clouded eyes and trailed down her cheeks. She let the river run for what felt like hours, sobbing and sniffing as she reminisced Jeremy's childlike smile like flashes of old, black and white movies in her head.

She wanted it to be a lie. She wanted Shane to be a big, fat liar. But her memory was clear. She remembered Katherine. She remembered Silas' hand snapping Jeremy's neck. She remembered his beautiful brown eyes empty as he stared at nothing in particular.

He was dead. Truly dead. And she didn't do anything to stop it.

She was still crying, now a little softer, when she finally managed to stand up on her own. Bonnie wanted to be left alone, to run through the woods until her pain disappeared, but Shane was by her side in a second, handing her a metallic cup.

"Bonnie… Here, drink this, it'll calm you down…"

The cup flew away from his grasp and into the ground before he could get it too close to her. "I don't want any of your stupid teas, Shane." She growled. Shane whispered something that sounded just like her name, but she didn't listen.

Bonnie pushed past him and her eyes stung when she looked at the improvised fire, reminding her of her tears and the reason for them. "Jeremy's dead!" She cried out.

The flames rose high and out of control. "Bonnie, be careful, don't let your magic get out of control." She rubbed her eyes with her palms as they burned, too close to the raging fire for her safety. "Bonnie… Bonnie! I'm not gonna let you fall apart," he held her as her knees gave up. "I'm not gonna let you!" He grabbed her arm too strongly, the physical pain bringing her back to reality. "Silas needs you." He whispered.

Through the tears, Bonnie saw Shane's face closer to hers. "He can bring Jeremy back, he can bring everyone back…" The fire went back to its original size. Bonnie's crying becoming simple whimpers. "And you're gonna help him, okay? You're gonna see Jeremy again." He promised.

Bonnie pressed her lips together as she studied his face. Her broken heart urging her to believe him, completely ignoring the bad feeling inside her gut.

* * *

"We've gotta get you home if you're gonna help Silas raise the dead."

Bonnie followed Shane closely as they hiked through the forest, barely managing to keep herself on her feet.

She pushed some branches away from her path as she gave long steps behind him. "I don't understand what I can do." She confessed.

Shane grabbed the big stick he'd been using to steady himself and explained. "Well, Silas can't do magic. He was a witch, but after he became Immortal, that ended. You can be a witch or a vampire, but never both." He announced. "That's why I've been teaching you Expression. So you can do his work for him.

"What? Wh— How?"

Seeing her confusion, Shane turned around to face her. They stood before each other for a moment before he put three of his fingers up. "Using the power of three massacres." At Bonnie's distressed look, he quickly went to elaborate. "Each massacre of twelve marks the earth with power, and you can use Expression to tap into that power."

He stepped closer to her to study her blank expression. "Three?" She breathed out incredulously. "You got thirty-six people killed?" She was outraged.

"No, I got twenty-four people killed." He said calmly as if it was a completely different thing. "Twelve humans at the Young farm, twelve hybrids. You and I are gonna complete the triangle."

"We're what?" To say she was in shock was an understanding.

"Look, there needs to be another massacre, but it's okay, they're gonna come back, it's worth it."

"I'm not helping you kill twelve people, Shane!" Bonnie's voice was severe and full of decision. She could never hurt someone innocent. It wasn't on her nature.

Shane's hands shot to her arms and grabbed her tightly, making sure she heard his next words. "Wouldn't you, if it meant you can see Jeremy again… Your grams. Everybody you and your friends ever lost." His voice was dreamy and it his promise was alluring. Bonnie discovered herself seriously considering, and Shane saw the crack in her will as soon as it showed in her expressive brown eyes. He huffed knowingly. "I think you would."

It took a heartbeat for Bonnie to snap back to her senses. She wasn't selfish! She wasn't the kind of person to take a life to bring someone back. Jeremy wouldn't want her to become that person. Her grandmother wouldn't forgive her! "No!" She pushed away in anger and took off running as fast as her feet could carry her.

Shane didn't follow her, but it wasn't necessary. Bonnie only made it so far before she tripped violently over something. Wind was knocked out of her chest and she turned to see what made her fall, only to find a ghostly Jeremy calling out her name. "Bonnie." He breathed.

Bonnie's heart stopped inside her chest. "Jeremy?"

"It hurts." He said.

"Jeremy!"

Blood came out of his nose. "Help me."

"I can help you!" She said with decision. She pressed her hands against his chest and closed her eyes in concentration, calling out for the magic in her blood. The wind turned erratic around them, making a whirlpool of dried leaves around them. She breathed and hoped, doing her very best to cure his wounds. To save him. Jeremy.

Jeremy…

Jeremy…

She pressed again, and her hands went through the hair and met the ground. The air became steady. "No…" She looked around to see if she could find him, but only met Shane's figure towering above her, pity in his eyes once again.

He stepped towards her slowly. "He asked you to help him, didn't he?" He took another step. "He needs your help." Bonnie looked up to him, eyes crystalized once again, hope gone from her usually cheerful staring. "You can do this, Bonnie. You know you can."

Bonnie was defeated. The fight gone from her, so she looked Shane into his eyes and confessed the truth she'd been fearing to say out loud. The truth that revealed that she wasn't the innocent, kind friend Elena and Caroline believed her to be. She was selfish. "I'll do whatever it takes."

* * *

Atticus Shane walked through the wilderness after Bonnie walked away. Only he wasn't Atticus Shane, but Silas. And he was looking for his sister.

He found her exactly where he left her, changing into fresh clothes she dug from Elena Gilbert's forgotten backpack. A pair of jeans, a long-sleeved, dark green shirt, and a light jacket. She was focused on putting socks on, sitting on the floor, back against the bark of the tree. Her hair was still like he remembered. Tangled and curled in every direction, few strands falling on her face.

She registered his presence quickly enough. "Finished with the witch?"

He shrugged. "Just filling her in on her duties." He sat by her side and looked inside Elena's bag for a bottle of water and a small rag. He poured some liquid in the cloth, just enough to make it moist, and began to scrub her face clean.

She flinched away from his touch, but he persisted. Rubbing her face clean from the dirt that caked over her complexion, and she reluctantly allowed him. "Why are you still wearing the dead man's face?" She asked.

Silas breathed out. "Can't be too careful?"

"Around me?" She snapped, pushing his hand away and standing up, feet already secure inside a pair of boots. "You want to take precautions? Fine. Let me take some of her magic so I can protect us."

She began to strut in the direction which he'd come from, but Silas grabbed her arm harshly. "You are not to touch Bonnie Bennet."

Veronica's eyes brown eyes were like fire under the dying light of the day. She breathed out from her nose, brows furrowing. Silas knew that look too well. Her sister's anger wasn't a common thing earlier in their lives. In fact, she used to be too good for her own sake. But after Eirene's incident… Silas knew she'd changed. She became wrathful, volatile. Out of control. "Fine." Her face became unreadable. "I'll take yours."

Her hand grabbed his neck and she focused, but nothing happened. Confused, she grabbed his cheeks with both her hands and her eyes gleamed.

Silas chuckled, grabbing her wrists and pulling them down to her sides softly. "You'll notice I've taken new precautions. Can't have me at the mercy of your temper tantrums, can we?"

Veronica clenched her jaw. "You seem very worried about your own well being, yet you deny me the only thing that'll grant me the ability to protect myself. Protect you."

"I'm confident I can protect myself at the moment. So can you." He walked a few steps away and grabbed something small inside Elena's bag, handing it to Veronica. "Do something about that bird's nest on your head. You look hideous."

Veronica grabbed the tie from Silas' hand and pulled her hair away from her face, wrapping it in an improvised bun. Her brother nodded in approval, happy to see her somewhat presentable. "I wasn't aware there was a dress etiquette in the twenty-first century."

Silas —in the face of Atticus, frowned. "How'd you know which century we're in?"

Grabbing Elena's bag, Veronica pressed her lips together. "The doppelgänger. I was inside her head. Couldn't see much. She's well versed in protection against mind-reading. But I got the basics." She proved so by securing the straps of the backpack over her chest. "Like, for example, that there's something called a bus, that can take us all the way to the witch's hometown."

His eyebrows shot up. "And why should we head there?"

"Because I'm convinced you want to keep an eye on your puppet, seeing as I alone am not enough to bring down the Other Side." She said quickly, walking through the trees with expertise. "And I intent to be around when it happens. I want to see the look on Qetsiyah's face when she realizes I brought her back from the dead just to kill her myself." Her eyes flashed red for a moment. "What about you?" She questioned. "Still looking for eternal life with Amara?"

"No," he said honestly. "I realize the only way we can be together forever is in death. And that can't happen as long as the Other Side is there to keep us apart. I intend to join her, find peace by her side."

He waited for a few minutes for her reaction, but she kept moving silently through the woods, just like in the old times, before she finally spoke again. "That's romantic, I guess."

He chuckled but didn't say much else for the rest of their hike towards civilization.

In the meantime, Veronica enjoyed the sounds of the forest, remembering the simpler times, when those endless woods would be her only haven. Only naïve of her was to think that her brother would look after her.

Veronica peeked over her shoulder at his smug expression, unmistakable, even under Atticus' skin. He was awake after two millennia, and he still wanted nothing but to die and join his pathetic human lover in the afterlife.

Veronica's blood boiled.

She'd been inside his head. The moment she touched him. She took advantage of his weakness, his foolishness to believe she'd try to drain his power. And she looked at his intentions. His desperation to destroy the barrier between him and Amara.

Looking after his sister, making sure she'd get what her heart wished, to pay back her two-thousand years of unwavering, blind loyalty, was not even on his list of priorities.

So she guided him to his goals, offered her abilities to him like she always did. Like the grateful, naïve sister always did. But she wasn't that girl anymore.

She was done paying her debt. From that moment on, Veronica would look after her only. And no one, not even her brother, would hold her back.


End file.
